Inheritance
by iamtheparadoxoflife
Summary: Thommy! Thomas has something thrust upon him. Is love for Jimmy enough to make him brave the storm of old memories?
1. Chapter 1

On the day our story begins, Jimmy Kent woke up to the sound of the person he loved the absolute most in the world curled around him and whispering softly, "Jimmy, it's five o'clock, you need to get up."

He shifted and opened his eyes and groaned. "I don't want to move." 

Thomas laughed softly and kissed Jimmy's temple, the most readily available part of him. "Alright, how about you stay here and we let Mr. Carson find us like this." 

"_Damn it to hell._" The footman carefully rolled himself out of the warm cocoon of Thomas. "For _one night_ in my life, I'd like to be able to sleep with you and not have to run back to my room terrified of being found out." 

"I know." Thomas whispered, squeezing Jimmy's forearm. "But let's take what we can get, no? Will you-"

Without letting him finish the sentence, knowing what the request was going to be, Jimmy handed his lover the packet of cigarettes and the lighter from the nightstand.

"You're a darling. Now get back to your room before the wakeup call. I'll see you at breakfast." 

Jimmy started for the door, but turned around to say one last thing. "I love you, Thomas." He'd said it before, a few times, but still, the look on the older man's face could have lit up the world had it needed it at that moment. His smile was gigantic, pure ecstasy on his face, his eyes, for once, not melancholy or downcast. Jimmy mentally reminded himself to say that more often, it made Thomas more beautiful than he already was, as he whispered, "I love you, too, Jimmy."

...

Almost a full year had passed since Jimmy had finally given up the masquerade of denial. A year of secret love and nicotine kisses and happiness. A year of Jimmy's heart melting when Thomas smiled. A year of Thomas being amiable and even _sweet _to the rest of the staff.

At breakfast that day, conversation was of the guests that would be arriving at Downton next week for Lady Edith's dinner party. The regular hustle and bustle, nothing he particularly cared about.

"They are, of course, not the...usual sort of guests..." Mr. Carson said uncertainly. 

"Well, what are they, then?" Mrs. Hughes asked in her amused tone. 

"I don't know, writers, perhaps. London people. No sensibilities at all."

Thomas snorted into his toast, and Jimmy hid a giggle behind his napkin. 

"Something funny, Mr. Barrow?" Bates asked lightly, in that obnoxious way of his.

_Only the inability of the aristocracy to accept change, _Thomas's tiny glance at Jimmy said. 

"No, of course not, Mr. Bates," the under-butler said, this time out loud, with a ridiculously sincere smile. Jimmy smiled affectionately, and only Daisy noticed. She smiled to herself, and Jimmy knew in that moment that she knew.

He didn't even mind.

...

Later that day, as Jimmy and Alfred were polishing silver at the table, a task both of them despised from the very depths of their souls, the bell for the front door rang. 

They glanced at each other. Mr. Carson was upstairs with Lady Mary, a practice that had become almost sacred for them in the two years since Mr. Matthew had died. 

"Well, who's going to go get it?" Alfred asked worriedly. 

"I will," Jimmy announced, standing up and straightening his livery. _Anything to keep from polishing that bloody silver. _

The front door was heavy, and Jimmy dragged it open to find an unfamiliar, but professional looking man tapping his foot.

"Hello, sir," Jimmy began. "Can I help you?" 

"Yes, please. I'm looking for a Mr. Thomas Barrow."

Jimmy hoped his surprise didn't register on his face, and he was dangerously close to asking why, a serious infraction in the eyes of Mr. Carson.

"Right this way, sir, if you'll wait in the library while I go find him?" Using his proper footman posture and demeanor, Jimmy drew himself up and led the way to the small library. _What does he want with Thomas? _And more importantly, _How can I manage to get in here while they talk? _


	2. Chapter 2

When Jimmy had gotten the man safely into the room, he turned, an idea dawning on him. "Shall I bring you some tea once I get him down here?"

"Um, yes, thank you." The man says with a gentle smile. 

_Holy shit. _Jimmy speeds downstairs to Mr. Carson's office, where he knows he'll find Thomas. He bursts in the door, slams it behind him.

"Hey, darling," Thomas says with a smile, lighting up.

"There's someone here for you, Mr. Barrow," Jimmy gasps, ignoring the swelling of his chest he always feels when Thomas smiles at him. The _Mr. Barrow _instead of _Thomas _is their code. When Jimmy says _Thomas, _he's talking to the man he loves, his best friend. If he says _Mr. Barrow, _he's talking to his coworker, his superior.

"What do you mean, someone here for me?"

"I _mean_, a man came to the door and asked for you." 

"That's weird..." Thomas says, standing up, looking confused. "He didn't look like a police officer did he?" It was a half joke.

"No, he looked like a lawyer or something."

"Uh oh." All the same, the under-butler stands up. "I'd better go up and see what he wants...did he leave a name or anything?" 

"No, I didn't ask. He's in the small library. I'm going to bring you some tea up there, listen in on the conversation."

"Thanks, Jimmy," Thomas says, still confused. He squeezes the footman's hand quickly, and leaves the room.

...

When Jimmy gets back into the room with the tea, it appears Thomas and the lawyer have just gotten through their pleasantries. 

"So, Mr. Barrow," the lawyer says. "You were familiar, in the war, with a man named Edward Courtenay?"

Thomas's mouth opens slightly and it takes him a moment to answer. Jimmy feels a burning curiosity. "Yes, sir. I was, but he, he...passed on before leaving the hospital. Is that what this is about?"

"Well, partly. His brother, the heir to their rather generous estate has just deceased." 

"Well," says Thomas in a state of confusion. "I'm sorry." 

"And the first name we could find on the will was _yours. _You inherited everything."

"_What?" _

"Yes, strange. But apparently, before his death, the older Mr. Courtenay wrote your name down as an heir." 

"...You're _joking_." Thomas had a look of dumb shock on his face, and he ran his hand through his hair. He was exhaling hard. "Edward...Courtenay left me an _estate?" _

Jimmy hadn't breathed in at least thirty seconds, but couldn't bring himself to unfreeze. His entire body had seized up and wasn't able to move.

"Yes," the lawyer said, reaching into his inside pocket and brandishing a letter with two fingers. "And he has this letter for you, meant for your eyes only. Would you like to read it in private?"

"Yes, please." Thomas took the letter and stood up. "I'll be back in a moment." He glanced at Jimmy, shook his head very slightly, and left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Thinking about Edward had always had profound effects on Thomas. War flashbacks were never a problem for him, except when it came to the blind lieutenant and the lovely nurse who was inextricably connected with him. He couldn't think of Edward without thinking of Sybil, and vice versa. In losing her, he had lost him all over again.

Now, though, flashbacks were _ransacking _Thomas's mind as he sobbed helplessly against the brick wall. This wasn't the first time he'd done this... All of a sudden, it was five years ago and he was back at the hospital, that fateful day when he'd seen Edward covered in... And Sybil, too, lovely lovely Lady Sybil was gone...

_He's sobbing, sitting up against the wall, a million thoughts running through his head, not one of them good. His rough, shaky breaths have fallen into a terrible rhythm. _Edward, Edward, Edward...

_ She's teary, too, and sits down beside him so their shoulders are touching. _

_ "Never thought _this _day would come," Thomas mutters a little cruelly. "_Me, _sitting next to a Lady of the House." _

_ Lady Sybil shakes her head gently and he can hear the words before she says them, she says them so often. "It's okay. Those lines don't matter here." She likes it, he can tell. She likes the equality the wartime seems to have laid out. Everyone from the very top to the very bottom was greatly affected and she likes that. She's okay, Lady Sybil, really. _

_ He cries for a few minutes more, unable to grasp control, while she watches non judgmentally and rubs his shoulder. She doesn't try to talk, for which he is endlessly grateful. _

_ When he's all cried out, he looks straight at her, something he's never done before, out of the rules and habits of service. "He'd better get into Heaven. They can't hold that against him, how he went. Not a man like that." _

_ "Of course he'll go to Heaven," Sybil says gently, almost maternally. _

_ "Even if it means I'll never see him again." Thomas keeps up a hard front most of the time, but when it comes down, it comes all the way down. He pretends not to care and pretends not to care and pretends not to care, _but he does.

_"Why wouldn't you?"_

_ "Haven't you heard? I'm a 'foul and disgusting freak'!" He collapses, head in his hands, interrupting her if she tried to speak. "Why'd he have to die? I feel so bloody useless! This whole war is bloody useless. All I've seen is death and that's all that's coming of this. Why'd he have to leave me alone? I could've-I could've-" _

_ "You're not alone, Thomas," Lady Sybil says. No, _Sybil. _She doesn't have to be Lady Sybil. Not here. Not now. She squeezes his uninjured hand. Somehow the use of his first name, which he hasn't heard recently, except in letters from Sarah, comforts him a bit. _

_ They don't talk for a few minutes, until the lady asks, gently and accusingly, "Were you in love with him?" _

_ Thomas takes a shaky breath, and says uncertainly, (for no matter how boundless her kindness, it's still illegal), "I might'a been. If we'd been given more time-but you don't want to know that, it's-"_

_ "No, it's okay. I understand. We've all wanted someone we can't have..." Her eyes are wistful for a moment, but she's not prying, so he won't either. _

_ "I just feel so bloody guilty! Like I could've done something." But instead, he'd had to see Edward, _his_ Edward, in a pool of his own blood, dead for all the world to see. Nightmarishly, horribly, dead. _

_ "You did everything you could. His end was his choice, and all we can do is keep breathing and keep going." She sounds like bloody Isobel Crawley, and that thought is almost enough to make him laugh. Almost. _

_ "I might've loved him," he says hollowly. _

_ "We can try to help people like him in the future." _

_ A wisp of a thought, "_there's no one like him", _crosses Thomas's mind, but he pushes it away, and nods, pulling himself together. _

_ When the two of them look at each other again, it was with the cold gaze of mere coworkers. _

Thomas, back suddenly in the present, forced himself to breathe, talking out loud to keep from going crazy. How was it that both of them could be dead? Along with almost everyone else he'd ever cared about... _Blood blood blood, death death death _and he was suddenly alone.

There was no way in hell he could take that money, no way he could face trauma that came with thinking about the owner of it. He couldn't take it. But he had Jimmy, now. Jimmy had to be his first priority...

Didn't he?


	4. Chapter 4

The footman spent the time while Thomas was out in the hall trying to be the perfect, impassive piece of furniture that being a footman required. He was _burning_ with curiosity.

Thomas was gone for much too long, five minutes, ten, fifteen. Jimmy focused on being part of the architecture, and the lawyer, whose name Jimmy still didn't know, was fiddling with papers in his briefcase.

The library door opened and Mr. Carson walked in, and stopped short at the sight of the unfamiliar face. "Er, hello, sir. Does...Lord Grantham know you're here?"

"Mr. Carson, this man is-" Jimmy began, but was cut off by the lawyer.

"Oh, Mr. Carson. We spoke on the phone last night. I'm here about Mr. Thomas Barrow, and he's just stepped out of the room to think things over."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," Carson said, torn between his habit of politeness to guests and dislike of the heir in question. "James, you're needed downstairs."

Jimmy nodded, took the tray and followed the butler out of the room, his stomach twisting with anxiety. He _needed _to be there for Thomas, and "there" at the moment was probably out in the courtyard where they normally smoked. How to get out there...

He took the familiar path down to the servant's hall, laid the tray on the table, and glanced over his shoulder. "Mr. Carson, I-" he broke down into the most violent and terrible fake cough he could manage.

"James! Get a drink of water and get up to your room this instant!" Carson snapped.

"I'll just-" cough "Need some fresh air. I'll be fine in a moment, sir." He made a break for the back door.

Anxiety pounded on his veins as he looked for Thomas, who was behind a shed, sobbing against a wall.

"J-Jimmy, good thing you're here. Tell me something normal and Jimmyish and kiss me and distract me from this hellish letter."

Jimmy knelt next to his lover, whispered, "Hey, darling. You know how I got out here? I faked a really bad cough to Mr. Carson. He ate it up, sent me to bed." He pulled Thomas against him, held tight while the other man's sob's shook both of them. He kissed Thomas's head over and over, rubbed his back. "It's okay, it's okay, it's gonna be okay. I love you. I love you. I love you."

When Thomas finally calmed down, he handed Jimmy the letter. "Did I ever tell you about Edward?"

"No." Imagination and jealousy flared up in Jimmy's chest. He didn't like to think that there had been men before him, though of course there had been.

"He was a patient in the hospital when I was a medic. He was blind and depressed and Lady Sybil and I helped him learn to walk. Doctor Clarkson tried to make him leave the hospital and..."

"And?" Jimmy pressed, trying to be gentle and failing.

"And we found him dead in his bed the next morning. He killed himself." A new sob came over Thomas, and he buried himself in Jimmy's chest.

"Did you love him?" He hadn't meant to say it, but the words came out anyway.

Thomas looked up, surprised by the question. "I didn't know him well enough, and I wasn't sure, he wasn't...like me. But maybe...I don't know." He took a deep breath, gestured to the letter Jimmy still held.

Taking a deep breath, he opened it and read the lovely, loopy handwriting.

_Thomas, _

_ If you're getting this note, my brother is dead, and you're the heir to my estate. It's to thank you for being there for me all those days. I'm having Nurse Crawley write this note for me, I know she's as fond of you as I am. Fond. I'm sure the word doesn't go far enough, but there we are. _

_ I'll be gone tomorrow, but I hope to see you again in the future, Thomas. You're the reason I'm still here. _

_ I hope you find someone who'll be better to you than I was and less cowardly. Be happy in your life, Thomas, it will make me rest easier. _

_ Thank you for everything. _

_ Edward. _

"Oh, Thomas," Jimmy gasped. "Wow."

"I can't accept this," Thomas said clearly.

Jimmy's jaw dropped. The hypocrisy of that statement nearly slapped him across the face. _My Thomas, who has been scheming and plotting and cutting and slashing his whole life for a better life, who wants nothing more than to be out of service...refusing the chance to start over? Refusing _money? _Refusing...a chance with _me.Jimmy isn't an idiot. They couldn't ever be together publically, but it's made ten thousand times harder when you're in service.

"I mean...I can't...he..."

"He said right there, he wants you to be happy! So isn't that enough? We can move to this estate and never have to get up at the crack of dawn, never have to hide, we can start over, Thomas! Together."

"I'd be living a lie."

"_You never minded that before! _If this had happened before...you know, you would have jumped at the chance and been _gone _by now!"

"But this is Edward."

"Who wants you to be happy."

"I _can't _if I know he's..."

"What about me, then?" Jimmy demanded, unable to keep the jealousy from his voice. "Don't _I _make you happy?"

"Of course you make me happy! But-"

"But what? This is our only chance, maybe ever, to be together and you choose _right now _to suddenly get morals?"

"It wasn't that I didn't _have _morals_, _they were just differently aligned than most peoples. But I can't move into his house and take his money when I'm with you. It's _because _you make me happy that I can't do it!"

Jimmy took a deep breath, and took both of Thomas's hands - injured and uninjured - in his. "Do you remember this morning? When I said I wished we didn't have to hide? And you said, _and I quote _'we'll have to take what we can get'?"

Thomas closed his eyes. "Dammit, Jimmy. If I didn't love you so damn much, I'd hate you. We're gonna have to accept, huh?"

Jimmy smiled and kissed him. "Yes!"

"I'm gonna clean up, and you're gonna go up to bed."

"What, why?"

"You, in your endless genius-" Jimmy elected to ignore the sarcasm. "Convinced old Carson you're deathly ill. If he catches you out here...and out here with me...you're dead."

Gently, Jimmy kissed Thomas again, remembering his note to self that morning. "I love you," he reminds him.


	5. Chapter 5

"Mr. Crouch, what do I need to do to accept this estate?" The words felt strange and foreign out Thomas's own mouth. _Estate. _

Like he's saying _chance. _

Or _hope. _

"It won't be instant, of course," the lawyer replied slowly. "It will take up to a month to process. But with any luck, you'll be living at Hepburn Gardens before too long, Mr Barrow. Would you like to take a train down to see it tomorrow afternoon?"

"If I can get the time off," Thomas said, "I'd love to." Remembering his rehearsed story, he added, "Would you mind if I brought along my cousin, who I'd like to give the chance to live there, too?"

"No, not at all, that'd be good, actually. This is a complicated process and the more people you have on your side, the better. Of course, the estate is pretty far into debt..." 

"What?" 

Crouch blinked. "Did I not mention that? Jack Courtenay was having quite a lot of financial trouble at the time of his death, and he was trying desperately to save the easte." 

"So I'm walking into a hole of debt with no job to cover in case something goes wrong?" The situation struck Thomas as _wrong, wrong, wrong. _But it _could _be his only chance with Jimmy. _Jimmy _had to be the first priority and if this could end up with the younger man in anywhere near the state Thomas himself had been over and over throughout his life. He wanted security for Jimmy, and if Downton was still their best bet, maybe they needed to stay. 

However, he _did _know quite a lot about the running of an estate from listening to Lord Grantham and Branson and Lady Mary over the last couple of years...could he do it? He'd have to see the state it was in, sure. He'd have to put feelers out for the market, they'd have to stay at Downton for a while, probably keeping it a secret. _But they could do it. _

"I need to discuss this with - my cousin, but I still would like to see the estate, if you're offering." 

Courage was never something Thomas had in abundance. But being with Jimmy, having a chance and hope and something to live for was bringing out the better characteristics of his personality. It would take bravery to undertake this. To save the estate, as he was now sure he'd have to, and live there (illegally! He hadn't even thought of that, that it was still illegal even without Carson's evil eye) with Jimmy and figure the rest of his life out was going to take guts. 

And this new Thomas, the one that had Jimmy, the one that needed to protect someone other than himself, the one that loved more deeply than he could have ever imagined he could...well, this Thomas had _guts. _


	6. Epilogue

One year of difficult legal things later and selling struggle, Jimmy Kent again woke up to the sound of the person he loved the most, but this time, it wasn't telling him to leave.

"Good morning, my love," Thomas murmurs, and Jimmy takes a deep, shuddering

breath. It's a decent hour, this time, as their shops don't open until ten.

Their sunny little apartment is not exactly an estate. That had to be sold to pay off the debt, leaving them with a sizable sum they could start over with. Thomas worked in the clock shop downstairs from their apartment, and Jimmy in the music store down the street. It's actually kind of perfect, and, another wonderful difference from Downton, had a bed big enough so neither of them are squished (though they curl up together anyway). It's honestly the happiest Jimmy has ever been in his entire life. 

"Morning, Thomas." Jimmy kisses him, once, twice, three times, maneuvering the both of them until they're exactly as Jimmy wants. 

"Careful, I won't want to get up." Thomas says, his smile gigantic.

"That's the point."

They kiss for a few minutes, both of them happy and content and sleepy and in love.

_Edward, _Jimmy thinks, hoping the man can hear him from somewhere. _Thank you. _


End file.
